


Call It Fate

by terramous



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Firefighter Carlos Reyes, M/M, Paramedic TK Strand, Vehicular Accident, Whump, slightly to the left of medical accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terramous/pseuds/terramous
Summary: With sharp features, the most beautiful light eyes and a shirt with ‘PARAMEDIC’ emblazoned above the breast pocket, the man spoke. “Hey, my name’s TK.”After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, “can you tell me your name?”*The Paramedic!TK AU no one asked for, but everyone needed
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775494
Comments: 31
Kudos: 281
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	Call It Fate

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my paramedic!tk and firefighter!carlos au,,, i personally am in love with it
> 
> Because I’m completely in love with paramedic tk
> 
> For the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Vehicular Accident

Blinking the darkness from his eyes, Carlos tried to examine his surroundings. There was a pounding in his head and pain blooming throughout the rest of his body. 

There was a wetness dripping down the side of his face and sticking his jeans to his leg. As he tried to shift, sharp jolts of pain erupted from his shoulder. Why did it hurt so much? 

Cold air filtered in through the window next to his head, clearing his mind enough to register the steering wheel in front of him. He was in his car. But the steering wheel was digging into his ribs and the hood of his car didn’t look quite right.

Light reflected off of crystalline shards to Carlos’ left, catching his eye. It was the shattered glass of his window, glittering atop the red hood of another car pressed into the door. 

Well, that wasn’t good news.

Neither was the pressure of the deformed car door against his excruciatingly sore shoulder. 

Technically, he should know how to get himself out of this situation, considering he was a firefighter, but all he could focus on was the pain. He trusted whichever first responders that got to him to get him out. The best he could do was stay put and try not to aggravate any injuries.

There was the soft pinging of glass shards against asphalt as a duffel bag slid atop the red car’s hood. Soon followed perhaps the prettiest man Carlos had ever laid eyes on. 

With sharp features, the most beautiful light eyes and a shirt with ‘PARAMEDIC’ emblazoned above the breast pocket, the stranger spoke. “Hey, my name’s TK.” 

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, “can you tell me your name?”

It took another few minutes, but Carlos found his voice. “Carlos.”

“Last name?” The paramedic — TK, pulled the all-too-familiar bright yellow cervical collar and began fastening it around Carlos’ neck with light hands and practiced skill.

“Reyes.”

“Mr. Reyes, do you know what day it is?” 

“Tuesday.” A bright light briefly assaulted his eyes, sparking a pain in the back of his head. Obviously, the pen light in TK’s gloved hand was to blame. Carlos tried to blink the weird shapes caused by the torch out of his vision. TK smelt like latex. “Call me Carlos.”

“Alright, Carlos. Do you know where you are?”

“My car. Did I hurt anyone?”

“It’s a pileup-“ TK explained, “-and it looks like the car I’m on crashed _into you.”_

Carlos hissed at the pressure against his temple, intensifying the stinging sensation. 

TK’s gaze softened. In this lighting, Carlos couldn’t tell if TK’s eyes were blue or green. “Sorry. You got a pretty nasty gash there, it’s bleeding quite a bit— don’t worry, head wounds tend to look worse than they are.” TK ran a thumb along the edge of what Carlos assumed was gauze and tape before smiling slightly. “There, much better.” 

“Give it to me straight, is my car going to make it?”

Casting his eyes downward, TK sighed. “I’m sorry but it was DOA. Looks like it would’ve been a fine beast about an hour ago.”

“She _was.”_

As it turned out, trying to shift, even slightly, did nothing to help, and only made everything hurt more. Carlos let out a noise he hoped wasn’t as pathetic as it sounded to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out in a minute — can you tell me where it hurts?” TK asked.

“Everywhere,” Carlos groaned.

“I get that. Can you be more specific for me?”

“My shoulder.”

“Alright.” TK bent down to get a closer look. “I can’t tell you definitively until we get you out of here, but judging by the way it’s positioned? You’re probably looking at a dislocation.”

“Not ideal. Need that for work.”

TK took Carlos’ other hand, pulling it across his body and up to the window. “So tell me, Carlos, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a firefighter.”

“Yeah, you kind of need two working shoulders for that. Which house?” There was a prick in the back of his hand and TK gently set it in Carlos’ lap.

The saline bag now situated in TK’s other hand itched at Carlos' curiosity. Was he bleeding? “128. But I put in for a transfer.”

“Where to?”

“The 126.”

TK’s eyes flashed with some emotion Carlos couldn’t describe. “Why are you transferring?”

“It’s the South.” Carlos chuckled. It was dry, humourless. “Homophobia blossoms here, my current firehouse is no different. Heard the 126 was under a good captain now.” 

Why was he spilling his guts to this paramedic in the middle of the night? Probably those stunning eyes and his earnest expression. 

“I assure you, the new captain would never let homophobia fly under his roof,” TK said.

“How can you be so sure?”

TK grinned like he understood an inside joke while Carlos scrutinised his expression. “Word is, he’s got a gay son, paramedic at the 126.”

“Impressive.”

“Yeah. How are you feeling?”

“Still hurts.”

TK laughed, it was light and airy. “I’d imagine so. Any tingling anywhere?”

“Fingers on my right. Just hurts.”

“Alright. That’s good. Not _good good_ , but good for the situation.”

TK turned to look off towards the back of the car. “Ryder,” he called, waving an arm. “Can you help me get this guy out?” 

He heard the heavy footfalls getting closer to the car and a few noises of metal scraping against metal. 

“Damn, Reyes, got yourself in trouble here.” Carlos groaned. Of course the one firefighter he knew outside of his own firehouse was here to see him like this. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you out in no time and TK here, will take real good care of you.” Carlos wasn’t really sure when Judd had managed to slide into the passenger seat but there he was, poking around the twisted steel and caved-in dashboard. 

“While you’re there, can you check for spinal?” TK chimed.

“Wiggle your toes for me, Reyes. You know the drill.” Carlos gave it his best effort despite the lack of room anywhere around his legs. He assumed it worked following the next words out of Judd’s mouth. “Atta boy.”

“Judd, keep an eye on him. I’ll get a backboard and we’ll get him out.” Carlos’ eyes followed as TK handed the bag of saline to Judd on the other side of him, and disappeared into the night. 

As Judd messed around with the metal around Carlos’ legs, there were a few creaks and clunks before an immense pressure was lifted. Carlos heaved a sigh of relief.

He was going to be out soon. Probably set up for a night in the hospital, but no longer in his wrecked car, exposed to the chill of the winter night air.

TK was in the passenger seat now, with a flashlight as he poked around Carlos’ legs, inspecting the damage.

“Okay, I’ll be honest, it isn’t pretty. You’ve lost a fair bit of blood but you’re pretty lucid. It’s a few shallow scrapes, they probably won’t even need stitches, but there’s a pretty deep one.”

“Are you from out of town? You don’t speak like a Texan.”

“New York. Let me know immediately if you start feeling tired, dizzy or nauseous. I’m gonna tie you a tourniquet, to help with the bleeding. It _will not_ be comfortable.”

TK was right. The sudden tightness around Carlos’ thigh pulled a whine from his throat. It was much less painful to be on the other side of the emergencies.

“It’s okay, you’re doing really well. I know it hurts but don’t worry, we’ll get you out in a minute.” Carlos felt the seatbelt fall away from him, no longer pinning him to the back of the seat.

“Why would you come all the way to Austin?”

TK’s voice was tighter, more forced as he replied, “Too much light pollution. I like to see the stars.”

Judd’s hands hooking under his arms and pulling him from the driver’s seat and onto the hard backboard propped across were an unwelcome sensation. Even the slightest jostle had Carlos clenching his jaw, and a full on yank — regardless of how careful Judd was trying to be — tore a scream from his throat.

TK winced, setting the IV bag on Carlos’ chest. “Yup, definitely dislocated.”

“You just want to set him on the ground, Strand?”

“Yeah, that’ll do for now.” TK was careful as he lifted Carlos’ legs onto the backboard, helping Judd to slide him into place. TK’s hands were always gentle, Carlos noted as TK fastened a few buckles around him. 

A flurry of movement brought Carlos to be lying on the road, with TK and Judd looming over him. He could see the crescent moon from this position, as well as the twinkling sheet of stars.

TK wedged a piece of hard plastic between Carlos’ teeth, his eyes drawn in focus. “You know the green whistle. Take a couple deep breaths as you need to. I’m gonna reset your shoulder.”

Carlos cringed. This wasn’t going to be fun. The upside was that the pain relief was almost instantaneous and the methoxyflurane smelt kind of fruity as opposed to something harsh and chemical. 

The soft touch returned, but this time it burned as TK’s fingers wrapped around his arm. His voice was muffled by the foam blocks stabilising Carlos’ head. “On the count of three.”

Carlos took a deep breath.

“One, two, _three!”_

A sharp jerk. Carlos’ vision went white for a moment. His entire shoulder was on fire. The pain stretching from his fingertips to his jaw was the only thing he registered, it consumed all of his senses.

Another breath cleared the pain enough for Carlos to hear what TK was saying.

“Still with me Carlos?” 

“I hate you,” Carlos grumbled, he wasn’t sure if TK could make out his words around the plastic. The problem was that, although the pain relief was relatively fast, it also wore off just as quickly.

TK chuckled lightly. “Just doing my job.”

“How’s it going over here? Need any help?” This was a new voice, but Carlos couldn’t tilt his head to see.

“Actually, Dad, could you help us carry Carlos here to the ambulance? I wanna keep an eye on him and my hands free.”

Carlos was seeing people from a lot of interesting angles tonight. He was pretty sure he could count each nostril hair of this firefighter.

“Not Carlos Reyes, I hope,” the firefighter joked.

“Yes sir, that would be me,” Carlos explained even though it wasn’t aimed at him.

He was met with blue eyes full of what Carlos could only describe as pity. “Kid, I just approved your transfer before coming out here.” 

Oh. This was Captain Owen Strand. Of the 126. What a terrible first impression to make on his new boss.

TK laughed a little, a few short noises as he gave Carlos a reassuring pat on his non-injured shoulder. “Don’t look like he just kicked your puppy. We’ll keep your spot on the couch warm for you while that shoulder heals.”

It probably took Carlos a little long to piece the puzzle together. The captain’s son. “Oh.”

TK met his gaze and offered him a wink.

“Tell me, Reyes, how’d you get yourself in so much trouble on the same day your transfer is approved?”

Carlos’ mumbled around the pain relief in his mouth. TK pulled it away for him to speak more clearly. “Bad luck, I guess, sir.”

“I hope you’re not this unlucky all the time. I like it when my firefighters stay out of the hospital.”

Carlos winced at the jostling motion that brought him onto a gurney. Why did everything have to hurt so much? Why did his boss have to be there to witness it? 

“Sorry kid,” Judd chimed from Carlos’ feet. “You’ll be feeling better soon.”

“Feel better soon,” Captain Strand said, patting Carlos on his good shoulder.

As the gurney was pushed into the ambulance, Carlos grit his teeth even harder than he thought possible. He was getting sick of being in so much pain. TK slotted the whistle back in Carlos’ mouth as soon as the firefighter was settled in place. He gratefully took a deep breath, a deep ache resonated throughout his whole body.

“Alright, I’ll go get my bag. Cap is on her way over, so don’t die in the next thirty seconds,” TK chirped before disappearing. 

The ambulance was bright. Much more than being outside under the cover of celestials. The lights hurt Carlos’ head, so he closed his eyes and waited for TK to return.

“Ooo, you got a green whistle. That’s the good stuff,” Michelle cheered as she climbed into the ambulance.

Carlos pulled the whistle from his mouth with his good hand. “Dislocated shoulder.”

“Ow,” she cringed in sympathy. “I take it you’re not having a good night.”

“What gave it away?”

Michelle ignored his question, shining her own pen light in his eyes. “I see you’ve met Strand’s boy.”

“One word: _dreamy_.”

“Oh Carlos, you’re tragic.”

“Can you put in a good word for me with him?”

“I don’t know how I feel about you trying to make a move on my paramedic, Firefighter Reyes.”

“Well, Captain Blake—“ Carlos pointed the green whistle in a direction he hoped was Michelle. “—he is very pretty.”

She just laughed. “If your transfer gets approved, you’ll get to see him more often.”

“Saw Captain Strand. He said my transfer was approved. Sucks I’ll be out of commission for the next few months.”

“So you met both of the Strand boys today?” Michelle sounded like a cat with her eyes on a mouse, ready to bully Carlos into doing something dramatic. Like asking a certain paramedic for his number. “Fun for you.”

“I don’t think Captain Strand is going to be happy that his new transfer is already in the back of an ambulance.”

“He’ll probably nag me for updates on how you’re doing. He’s very prone to adopting every kid that comes through his door.” 

“At least I’m not getting fired on my first day.”

With a dramatic gasp, Michelle poked Carlos’ nose. “He would never.”

Michelle’s hands ghosted over Carlos’ legs before pulling the material of his jeans away from his skin. He grit his teeth with a sharp inhale at the sudden spike in pain. “That leg wound looks particularly unpleasant.”

“Is it bad? I didn’t see it.”

She shook her head. “I hope these aren’t your nice jeans, that’s all.”

Carlos groaned. “They are.”

“Did you wear them with the intention of getting into a crash and wooing my prettiest paramedic?”

“No,” Carlos said, “dinner with my parents.”

“There’s got to be a scolding from your mother in there somewhere. But your fridge is going to be stocked with your mother’s phenomenal cooking for the next month while she dotes on you? You better be inviting me over.”

“I’m a firefighter, I can change my own dressings. I don’t need your help.”

“And I’m the paramedic captain,” Michelle chided, “who adores your mother and her cooking. You seem to forget that I’m only friends with you so I can hang out with your mother.” 

“No one loves me anymore.”

“I don’t know about that, you haven’t asked TK on a date yet.”

“I hate you.” Those three words wiped the smug smile off of Michelle’s face, only to reveal a smaller, smugger smile underneath. 

“You love me. Even if I don’t have TK Strand’s _pretty eyes._ ”

“You know what? I’ll walk to the hospital.”

“Like hell you will.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” TK asked, climbing into the ambulance, and giving Carlos a pat on his ankle. He should probably feel more awkward about the first impressions he was making on both TK and his new captain, but he was just ready for everything to stop hurting.

“How your dad isn’t going to fire Carlos for dislocating his shoulder.”

TK’s eyebrows basically hit the roof. “He would never. He’ll probably camp out in your hospital room himself.”

“Don’t think I came across very well.”

“You’re hurt and in pain. He’s a fire captain, he knows that what people are like when they’re sick and injured is not an accurate representation of who they are as a person.” 

Michelle hummed in affirmation, taking Carlos’ hand. “See? No one’s getting fired tonight.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as the ambulance rumbled to life and began moving. TK bickered with the driver for a few minutes, seeming a lot more at ease than he had while Carlos was stuck. There wasn’t really much of a need for professionalism.

“Y’know what, cap? I can’t wait to get back to the station, I’m starving. No offense, Carlos.”

“None taken.”

Michelle smirked at Carlos before turning to TK. “Mrs. Reyes’ cooking is to _die_ for. I’ll sneak you some when she’s doting on her baby boy. That woman is a gift to humanity.”

“Is this Carlos your best friend, Carlos?”

“The one and only,” Michelle said, giving Carlos’ curls another pat. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” TK joked from somewhere outside of Carlos’ peripheral vision.

“All good things, I hope.”

“The best.”

🚑

“Hey everyone, there is a reason I asked you guys to come in before shift. I know I said we had a new transfer who wouldn’t be joining us for a few months. Well, a few months have passed, and here is Firefighter Carlos Reyes,” Captain Strand announced with a dramatic sweep of his arm in Carlos’ direction.

“Hey,” he offered, suddenly very nervous to be under so many scrutinising gazes. 

The captain gave him a firm slap on the back, turning to him with a wide grin. “Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”

His eye caught on TK as the paramedic rounded the doorway to see what was going on. TK’s eyes lit up as he cheered and clapped, albeit sarcastically. 

“Carlos! Good to see you, man. Welcome to the team!” 

“Mingle!” Captain Strand practically shoved Carlos into the faces of his new team. 

Judd was the next to grab him, tucking an arm around his neck and messing with his hair. “Took you long enough, kid.”

“Don’t blame me, it was out of my hands.”

“Why’d you transfer months ago but start today?” Carlos silently thanked the ‘Guide to the 126’ powerpoint Michelle had sent him the previous night, because of that, he knew that this was Paul Strickland, a firefighter originally from Chicago who had an incredible gift for threat assessment. Michelle then told him that she wasn’t even going to be there today for moral support, in favour of a sleep in. He would never forgive her.

“Funny story. The day my transfer was approved, I got stuck in a multi-car pile up. Dislocated my shoulder.”

Paul sucked his teeth. “That sucks, man. Glad to have you on board, though.”

“Thanks.”

As everyone came to the conclusion that Carlos was an acceptable addition to the team, the tension in the air lifted. They began to crack jokes and ask Carlos questions, like what station he transferred from and his opinions on puns and horror movies. As soon as they caught wind that he was Captain Blake’s best friend, Mateo and Marjan practically begged him for secrets and blackmail material. 

“My lips are sealed. You can ask her yourself.” Carlos mimed zipping his lips for good measure. 

A hand firmly clapped him on his shoulder. He turned to see TK Strand poking his tongue out at the firefighters. 

“How’s the shoulder?” TK asked, his eyes twinkling. They were green, Carlos could see their colour in this light. Somehow, he was more breathtaking up close and without the starry backdrop. 

“Uh…” Carlos started, before picking his brain cells off of the floor. “Much better, thank you.”

“He’s too polite,” Marjan quipped, jabbing a pen in Carlos’ direction. “Don’t be nice to TK, he’s evil.”

“I’m not evil,” TK huffed.

Marjan rolled her eyes. “Never trust pretty boys, Carlos. They’ll break your heart.”

Carlos didn’t want to break it to her that it was probably too late for that, as his eyes settled on the gentle curve of TK’s lips for a little too long to be purely platonic.

**Author's Note:**

> Title From: The Fear of Letting Go - Too Close To Touch
> 
> Also I learnt that the green whistle is Not used in America after I finished writing this. If it’s not _very obvious_ , I’m not American.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> This au might become a series?? So let me know if y’all would want to read that.
> 
> [tumblr](https://sunsetcxrve.tumblr.com/)


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